Be Strong
by 101stars
Summary: DavexJohn Pairing. When John gets in a life-threatening accident, will Dave be able to tell John the truth?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One **

You were at John's house when you first felt it. It was like a little, weird warmth creeping into you, that feeling.  
"Dave, come here, I got a new poster I want to show you!" John called from upstairs. You pushed away from the wall you were leaning against and made your way upstairs. John was sitting on the bed, a grin on his face. "Look! My dad got it for me, it's from that really awesome movie Con Air, you know the one with Nicholas Cage? Oh yeah, you didn't see it, well anyway it's about this guy who…"  
Suddenly, you found yourself zoning out. You were watching John talk, and it seemed so great he was talking so animatedly about the stupid movie, and it just _hit_ you.  
John fucking Egbert…was the cutest thing ever.  
But, God, it made you feel stupid. And you hated feeling stupid, like the time when all those birds flew into your room and wouldn't leave you the fuck alone.  
It was like one of those annoying romantic movies, where the guy sees the girl and it's like she's the only thing he can see. It was like that with John…and you hated it. But at the same time, you loved it.  
You loved _him_.  
You had been staring at John for a good 5 minutes without realizing, and he had stopped talking by then. He walked across the room, and snapped his fingers in front of your face.  
"Daaaaave…?" he said, trying to see past your sunglasses. You crashed back down from your John-high, laughing it off.  
"Sorry bro, kind of got distracted for a second…" you said, avoiding his gaze even though he couldn't see your eyes. John laughed, and your heart jumped around like a fucking frog.  
You heard John's dad calling him down, and John said "hang on a second" and ran downstairs. You sank down onto his bed, and couldn't help thinking that's where he _slept_.  
You had been friends for a long time, and it had only just come.  
John ran back upstairs, saying "My dad says I need to see my nanna now, so…"  
You nod, saying "Yeah that's cool, I'll, uh, see you at school then." and leave. You turn back when you're walking down the path, and spot John in his bedroom window, waving. You laugh to yourself, and wave back at him once.  
You had no idea the next year of your life was going to be the worst and best of your life.

-

**I have the whole story planned out, I just don't know if I should continue it, seeing as this is my first go… anyways, I'll see how it goes, but PLEEASE tell me if you like it or not, I need constructive critisism! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Things had changed drastically since that day. You and John still hung out together with your other friends Rose and Jade. You still talked on Pesterchum. Everything _seemed_ normal, but when you would go off in a fantasy about you and John, and get that far-off look, John would ask you, "Hey, Dave, what's up?" and you would shrug it off like it was nothing. But you couldn't hide it forever.

Back to the present, you're sitting at lunch with John and Jade. Rose isn't here because she had to go to band practise or something.  
"Lame. Why is band so important to her anyway?" you say, your hands in your pockets. You're leaning against a tree, your shades on as usual.  
John giggles, a sound that makes your heart leap. "Its because she likes it, duh." John says. He's eating a sandwich, and he's got a bit of bread on his face. You sit on your hand to keep yourself from leaning over and wiping it off.  
Jade rolls her eyes. "Yeah, but she's _always _at band. She hardly ever eats with us anymore. I only get to talk to her in biology." she says. John smiles, and goes back to his food.

It's a nice day, the sun is out and the sky is blue. The light shines through the leaves of the tree you're under, and illuminates John's face. Luckily you have your sunglasses on, because your eyes are bugging out of your head.  
Jade is busy flicking through her phone, and when a loud _ping!_ rings out, she gets to her feet. "Come on, Rose just messaged me saying she's finished. She wants us to meet her by the music hall." she says. You and John nod, and follow Jade to the music hall.

There are a few kids hanging outside the hall, eating lunch and talking. You spot Rose, and tell Jade that she's over by the doors. John is still walking up the stairs to the front of the hall, staring at his phone, when he trips. His phone hits the floor, and he falls onto you. Your breath catches in your throat, and John looks up at you. His arms are hanging by his sides, and he's staring into your face.  
You gulp, and hope he didn't hear it.  
"Uhh…" John mumbles. You look into his eyes, which are big and blue, and he's just staring at you and you're holding him and suddenly you want to tell him but you can't and the moment is stretching out-

"Wow. This is something I thought I would _never_ fucking see!" a voice sneers. You turn around, and nearly drop John. He stumbles to his feet.  
Standing in front of you is the biggest asshole in the school, Mike Hussie.  
"Strider, no fucking way!" he laughs, a sound that reminds you of a donkey's snort. "I always took you for a ladies man. But," he pauses, looking at John. "I guess I was wrong." You feel your fists clench.

John starts, "I actually just tripp-" but Mike cuts him off.  
"No, no, I get it. You wanted it to be fucking public, I see. Well, in _this_ school, we don't roll that way, faggot." You stand up straight, expecting Mike to slug you in the face, but he's turned his attentions to John. Your insides go cold.  
"Mike, leave him the fuck alone. He didn't do anything," you hiss, but Mike ignores you, grabbing John by the collar of his shirt.  
"You wanted public, I'll fucking _give _ you public, fag!" he yells, throwing John onto the floor.  
There's a loud _crack! _ as John's head hits the hard cement ground.

There's silence for a minute. John lies unmoving on the floor.  
"John?" you whisper. "John?"  
John hasn't moved at all.  
You run to him, his fragile body splayed out on the cement like one of your older brother's creepy puppets.

You turn to Mike. "What did you do, asshole? He's not MOVING!" you shout. Mike looks half-scared, and backs away slightly.  
"I didn't _do_ anything, Jesus…" but you ignore him. You pick John up (he's tiny for a kid his age) and rush over to Jade. "Jade, John's unconcious…" you begin, but the tears are forming behind your eyes and you can't continue.  
Jade nods and helps you carry John to the nurse's office.

Two hours later, John is in the hospital.

**So that's chapter 2! Thank you so much to the lovely reviewers, who pointed out that John is allergic to peanuts, duuh, and his eyes are blue, not green. Thank youuu! I'll be writing the next chapter over the next few days! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

You have been sitting in the hospital waiting room for over an hour. After John was rushed to hospital when he still didn't wake up in the nurse's office, you got on your bike and hurried there too.

When you tried to go in, the doctors pushed you out of the room where John was lying motionless, and you were forced to wait outside in the waiting area. It's too air-conditioned, and there are at least six people there, huddled in their hard plastic chairs, coughing.  
There's the sound of a door opening, and you look up to see John's dad coming out of his room. He sighs, and squeezes the bridge of his nose. You stand up quickly to catch his attention, and go over to him.  
"Mr Egbert, what happened to John? Is he going to be okay? And how's his head, I mean he hit the concrete pretty damn har-" John's dad puts his head in his hands.  
"I- I don't know yet. The doctors have checked him over and are going to tell us the results now. You… you can come in, if you want." he says, gesturing to the door. You nod, and follow him inside.

You turn to shut the door behind you, and when you turn back, you gasp. John is huddled in the bed, his eyes closed. His hair is messy, and he looks so small. You feel a lump form in your throat, and your hand briefly reaches out to his tiny form before you pull is back.  
The doctor knocks on the door, and lets himself in to the little room. He clears his throat, and he looks nervous. You feel sweat begin to form on your face, and your heart clenches into a tight ball.

"Well, um, Mr Egbert and… friend," he says, nodding at you. "It's bad news, I'm afraid. John seems to have suffered head trauma when he hit the ground, and I… I'm afraid he's in a coma."

_A coma… a coma.  
_The words spin in your head before you black out.

"Dave. Dave?" you hear. You jolt awake, and find yourself in the backseat of your car. Your mom is there, and she's staring worriedly at you. You rub your face, and find that your glasses have come off your face. Weird.  
"What… what happened?" you mutter. Your mom sighs, and tells you that you passed out when you were inside the hospital. A cold feeling creeps into your stomach as you remember…  
_John. Coma._

"Oh." you say simply. Your mom looks at the floor, then back at you.  
"Luckily I got there right when you fainted, or it would have caused a scene…you shoud go back inside. Mr Egbert was wondering if you wanted to see John again." she says, looking at you for an answer.

"Um, yeah, sure. I'll, uh, go now then." you say, and hop out of the car. Your mom waves, telling you she'll pick you up in an hour, before making sure you're okay. You make your way back inside the hospital.  
The receptionist looks worried when you walk in. "Are you okay, honey? You passed out a while ago, what happened?" she asks, leaning forwards in her desk.  
You feel your throat get tight. "Uh, I- I just got some bad news, y'know. My best buddy is, uh… sick." you manage. You feel light-headed.  
The reception lady's face expresses sadness. "Oh dear, that's so terrible. I hope they feel better soon," she says. You nod, and head towards the elevator.

When you get upstairs into the waiting area on John's floor, you spot his dad slumped in one of the plastic chairs outside John's room.  
"Hi, Mr Egbert," you say. "I'm sorry about, you know, earlier…" He looks at you tiredly.  
"It's okay, Dave. It was horrible news, and I know how close you and John are." he says, looking you in the eye. You feel your face redden, and mutter something about seeing how John is.  
The man directs you into John's room, shutting the door behind you.

There's a chair next to his bed, and there are several monitors and bleeping machines scattered around the room, some connected to John's sleeping body.  
"Hey bro. I, um, hope you-" your voice cracks. Luckily John's dad is still outside. "I hope you wake up soon. I don't want you to sleep for fucking ever." you say, trying to make it a joke, like John will suddenly sit up in the starchy hospital bed and shout, "Ha! I was joking, idiots!"

But you know this won't happen. John's in a coma.  
And you don't know what to do.

**Yaaay updates. I want to keep updating this as much as I can, because I hate it when some authors leave you on a cliffhanger and don't update for weeks!  
If I got anything wrong in this please tell me, and thank you to all the lovely reviewers and alerters and people who are adding this to their favourites! xD **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**Autumn**_

A week dragged by before you had a chance to visit John again. Mr Egbert wanted John to be alone for a while, in case not having any visitors helped him wake up. You didn't see how that would help in any way, but you respected that, you guess.

It's been eight days since the accident, and John hasn't shown any signs of waking up any time soon. You spend most of your time, without John around now to _distract_ you, doing homework and studying for the tests you have coming up. You're going over your biology notes and mentally worrying about John when your mom calls you from downstairs.

"Dave, Mr Egbert is on the phone. He wants to talk to you, come down." she calls.

"Coming, mom." you shout, putting your pen down and securing your shades on your face. When you get downstairs, your mom is holding the phone in both hands, and she looks worried. "Um, I'm not really sure what happened but he says it's important that you-" You don't give her time to finish, just snatch the phone out of her shaking hands.

"Hello?" you hiss into the phone.

Mr Egbert says, "Hey, Dave," in a tired voice.

"John, uh, seems to be...in a deeper sleep, as the doctors put it. They've decreased his chance of, uh, waking up to 45%. I thought I should let you know." he says, his voice quiet.

You're silent for a minute, then you say, "Okay, well, thanks for telling me, Mr Egbert. Is it okay if I come see John tomorrow after school?" He says yes, and you say goodbye and hang up the phone.

Your mom sits down in one of the kitchen chairs. "What happened? He didn't tell me." You tell her about the survival rate thing, and her face grows pale. "That poor, poor boy..." she mumbles.

You excuse yourself and go upstairs.

Sitting down on your bed, you put your head in your hands. "45%..." you whisper to yourself. You feel a tear slide down your face.

There's nothing you want more in this goddamn world than to see John awake. Alive again.

You decide to go for a walk. It's Autumn, and the leaves are slowly falling off the trees, covering the ground in a brown layer. You go to the window, and press your cheek against it. The windowpane is cold, and your warm cheek leaves a round patch of condensation. Staring outside at the deserted street below, you think about how if John was here, he would have his mittens on, scooping up leaves and throwing them in the air to rain down around his face.

You feel more tears escape your eyes.

Turning to grab your coat, you rush downstairs and run out the front door, not bothering to say goodbye to your mother. And God knows where your damn brother is, he's always out of the house doing stuff you would rather not know about.

Halfway down the street you realize you forgot gloves, so you stuff your hands in your pockets and huddle down inside your coat. It's freezing outside, and the wind is picking up now. Again, you think about John, and what he would be doing if he was here. He would tell you to stop shivering and enjoy the cold day, but there's nothing really to enjoy about it.

"Goddamn coma..." you mutter, and slump down on a nearby bench. Your stomach twists with sadness and pain when you think of John, being fed through a tube up his nose, curled up in that gritty hospital bed. You just want to scoop him up and carry him away, where he can wake up and not have to worry about the fucking _asses_ that terrorized him.

Suddenly, a thought hits you.

_What if there was something you could have done? It should have been _you_ who got beat up, who should be lying in a coma in the hospital right now..._

You put your face in your hands and cry, cry for real now because John could die and it's your fault.

It's always your fault.

You slam the front door harder than you wanted to.

"Dave? Is that you? Where have you been? It's been two hours...oh." your mom says, seeing your red cheeks. Your glasses are on as usual, so she can't see your eyes (thank god) but it's obvious that they're not exactly rosy from the cold.

Your mom clasps her hands together. "Um, well, I'll go make some soup. You must be freezing..." she trails off, and makes her way back into the kitchen. Usually you would have made some snide remark about how she should just live in there, but you don't have the energy. You go upstairs, grab your laptop and lie down on your bed.

Logging onto Pesterchum, you see that Jade is online. You haven't spoken to her since the accident, so you decide to check in on her.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG]

TG: hey

TG: sorry i havent been talking to you

TG: for ages

TG: its just because of john

GG: hey dave!

GG: yeah you havent spoken to me in a while...

GG: but thats okay, because of john!

GG: how is he? :(

TG: hes not that great

TG: the doctors lowered his fucking survival rate to 45%

TG: so

TG: long story fucking short

TG: he could die

TG: like

TG: soon

GG: oh my god! :O

GG: thats horrible! not john

GG: oh no

GG: thats really really not nice at all

TG: yeah

TG: you got that right

TG: it really sucks

TG: but anyway jade im going to go help my mom

TG: so ill talk to you later

GG: okay dave

GG: i hope john gets better really soon, i might visit him in the hospital one day this week!

GG: bye! /3

TG: bye jade

- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] -

You close Pesterchum and press the power button for a few seconds until the laptop turns off. Laying back on your bed, you stare at the ceiling. Suddenly, you hear the front door slam again. You hear a pair of footsteps up the stairs. Your mom is busy making dinner, so you run outside your room and see your brother who is never home... home.

"D-Dirk?" you stutter. "What the hell are you doing at home?"

He grunts something you don't understand and walks quickly into his room you've never been in, and plan to never go in.

God, he's so strange.

You go back inside your room, then decide it would be safer to be out of the house. You always seem to... _fight_ with Dirk whenever he's home.

Going downstairs again, you shout to your mom that you're going out, and close the front door. The cold air whips against your face as you walk to the bus station to get a ride to the hospital.

"Hey, which room is John Egbert staying in?" you ask the receptionist when you arrive. She gives a half-smile and points to the elevator.

"He's been moved. Second floor, room 202. Go right in, his dad's not here but he said it was alright for you to visit whenever you want. Y'know, within visiting hours." You nod at her and go to the elevator. It smells of that weird hospital smell, old people and cotton sheets. You wrinkle your nose in disgust.

When you reach the second floor, you go straight to room 202 without knocking. It's empty except for a bed, four beeping machines and a smaller door leading to what looks like a toilet. In the middle of the bed is John. He looks tiny, smaller than he did before. It's like the coma is sucking the weight out of him. Your eyes well up again, and you angrily wipe them with the back of your hand even though nobody else is in the room.

You shut the door and pull up a chair next to the bed.

"Hey, bro, it's Dave. You probably can't hear me, but that's cool. I just wanted to see how you were, 'cus I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier in the week." you say to him. His eyelids don't move at all, but one of the monitors by his bed shows his heart rate increase slightly. You smile, realizing he might be able to hear you.

Briefly, you think about telling him the truth, the whole truth about everything and these feelings you have, but you decided against it, because what if you're just talking to nobody? It was like talking to somebody who's passed out and wouldn't hear a canon if it went off next to their ears.

You glance at the door, making sure it's closed, and take John's hand in your own.

For the next three hours, you sit with your head on the edge of the bed, holding John's hand until the doctors come in and tell you that you have to leave.

**Oh my god I'm so so sorry about not updating, I've been really busy with school and I've had some, uh, kind of huge problems with my life and stuff but WHATEVER here is the update. I'm sorry it's short, I'm trying to write more, and there'll be another chapter of just Dave visiting John, at one point with Jade maybe. **

**And omfG how do you pesterchum that was the biggest mistake, I can't write conversations to save my life so excuse the horrendously bad pesterlog okay I'm sorry I will burn in hell for that**

**But thanks to the reviewers and alerters and everybody else, I'm so glad you like my shitty fic! 3**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_**Winter**_

You visit John nearly every possible day, mostly alone. It still breaks your stupid heart in half to see him like this, and you always get flashes of memories you thought you forgot, like sneaking into your bro's room one day with John and breaking something, or swimming in the river nearby your house one summer. It kills you inside to think that John might never wake up, and if he does, be some sort of retarded vegetable for the rest of his life.

It's winter now, and even more freezing cold that autumn, but that doesn't stop you from taking the bus to the hospital when you can. You spend hours there, talking and reading to John. Sometimes you become so tired you fall asleep next to him in the hard chair until the doctors kick you out. Mr Egbert comes sometimes, and will sit there watching his son sleep. You won't sit by him, instead you stand by the door watching the pain flicker through his eyes again and again.

One snowy day, you decide to ask Jade if she wants to come see John. She hasn't been to see him yet, and she wants to see him, but doesn't want to go alone. You sit at your desk and open Pesterchum, and type her a quick message asking if she wants to come with you today. She replies instantly, saying 'yes of course! :D", so you meet her at the bus stop and you go to the hospital together. On the way, there's not much to talk about. You haven't seen her in a while, and at school you avoid everyone, preferring to be on your own. Jade does mention that her plants are doing well, and you're glad, because she loves them so much. But that's the extent of your exchange until you reach the hospital.

When you arrive, Jade bounds in straight away, you following close behind. The receptionist looks confused, but when she sees you, she waves you right in because she knows you so well. Jade smiles at her on the way to the elevator. You reach John's room, and for once Jade hesitates. You get the feeling that she might not be ready to see him yet, but you put your hand on her back and slowly push her towards the door, and she eventually turns the door handle and goes in.

She gasps when she sees him.

"J-John? Oh my God..." she whispers. A tear rolls down her cheek, and she goes over to John, putting a hand on the bed near his face. She turns back to you, crying fully now. You lower your head, and stare at the floor. She sits next to him, and starts talking to him about how horrible this all is, and she needs him to wake up, wake up and everything will be all better. She promises him he'll wake up, and you make the same silent promise in your head. After about fifteen minutes of this, however, Jade becomes so upset seeing John like this, she has to leave.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I just can't bear to see John like this, it's so... it's so sad." So she goes home, promising to be back as soon as she comes to terms with John's current state. You simply nod, and watch her go. Sitting next to John after she goes, you gently touch the top of his head. His hair has been washed carefully by one of the nurses, and is smooth and shiny. It looks so strange against his pale face, and you drop your hand. "So, that was interesting, I guess. But whatever, man, Jade just needs some time to get used to this." you say, and then you're silent for a minute. You glance at John's sleeping face, and get lost in the way his lips are so smooth, the way the light hits his skin. He's so beautiful, but he might never know that. You might never get to tell him.

You listen to the steady beep of the heart monitor next to John's bed. You rest your head against John's pillow, his breathing slow and quiet. It soothes you, and you soon fall asleep.

"Dave?" somebody's saying. They're shaking your shoulder, and you wake with a jolt. You had been ripped out of a dream where you were walking along a dark street, and John is ahead of you. He keeps speeding up, and you try to catch up with him, but he's always too far ahead. It disturbed you. John's dad is the one shaking your shoulder, and he's frowning. "Dave, you need to stop falling asleep here. It's nearly 8, and your mom's been calling me all evening wondering where you were." he says. You apologize, and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

Your glasses are lopsided on your face, and there is a crease mark imprinted in your cheek from the sheets on the bed. You wash your hands, and go back into the room. Mr Egbert is standing with his arms folded talking to a doctor who's just entered the room. You wait by the bathroom door, trying to hear their conversation because they're speaking so quietly.

"I don't know what to tell you. At this point, we can't see any damage to John's brain, which is a good sign, so he'll be mostly normal whe- _if_ he wakes up." The doctor says in a hushed voice. "But, Mr Egbert, I can't see what will wake John from his coma."

You see John's dad lower his gaze to the floor. He responds, "Yes. I understand. I- I don't know what to do, though. What if he never wakes up?" In the dim light of the room, you can see his shoulders shake a bit. He's crying.

The doctor puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm very sorry, sir. Is there anything you would have usually done to get your son up in the morning? Or wake him from a deep sleep? Some people have said this might apply to waking people from comas." he says. Mr Egbert shakes his head.

"John usually wakes up by himself. I don't remember having to wake him up. He was always up before me." Mr Egbert says, his voice catching. You feel the familiar pain in your chest creep in. You let go of the doorframe. John's dad and the doctor look up at you.

"Uh, sorry. I'll go now. Bye, John." you murmur, rushing out of the room. The tears are already coming fast, and you don't reply to the receptionist when she asks what the matter is. You run outside the hospital and collapse under a tree in the parking lot.

"Why, _fuck_, why did this have to happen to him?" you whisper to yourself, over and over again. What if John doesn't get better? He might be stuck in that goddamned coma for the rest of his life... you don't even _want _to think about it. A fresh flood of tears pours out of your eyes, and you put your forehead against your knees.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Dave, son, I, uh... I know this is hard for you." You turn and see the hand belongs to Mr Egbert.

He continues, "But, it's hard for all of us. John was," his voice cracks. "_Is,_ such a special kid, and he... you were his best friend. He always talked about you, 'Dave did this,' 'Dave did that' and it made me smile that he had such a great friend. I'm... I'm just glad you're here for him." he said, and pats you once on the back before he goes to his car and drives away. You're surprised; John's dad is a man of few words, and you weren't expecting that. But it brings a smile to your tear-stained face, and you think about what he said for a long time before you pick yourself off the ground and go home.

When you get home, it's nearly 9pm and your mother is furious.

"Dave Strider, what the _hell_ were you thinking staying out so late?" she explodes when you walk through the front door. You shrug, ignoring her outburst, and start to go upstairs. But then she says, "I would expect this sort of behavior from your brother, but not you..." You whirl around so you're facing her. Because you're on the steps, you look taller than her.

"I'm not my brother, Mom." you hiss, and run upstairs. Slamming the door, you flop face-down on your bed, and let the smell of your own shampoo seep into your face. It's two hours before you slip under the covers and turn out the light. Your mom doesn't come up once.

The next morning, you wake up to weak sunlight trickling through the crack in the blinds. Pushing aside the covers, you slip on your sunglasses and pad out of your room quietly - bumping straight into Dirk.

"Watch where you're going, loser." he mutters.

"Whatever." you huff. Dirk smirks, adjusting his shades on his face. You roll your eyes behind your own, and you hold back the urge to punch him.

"Might want to watch your tone with me, young man." he says in the infuriatingly snide way of his, and suddenly you can't stand him for a second longer.

You push past him and go to the top of the stairs. You can hear your mom downstairs, and the smell of pancakes floats up. Your stomach rumbles, and you realize you haven't eaten in hours, but suddenly you remember that John is all by himself at the hospital and you need to go see him.

"I'm going out, mom." you yell to her, not bothering to wait for a response. You grab some money that's sitting by the front door and leave the house, going straight to the hospital again.

On the bus ride there, you sit at the back, staring out of the window. The snow is melting, and it's becoming warmer. Spring is coming, and John doesn't even know. A familiar pain stabs you in the heart.

"Ssup withchu," someone slurs beside you. You turn your gaze to find a bedraggled girl who looks about your age, with blonde hair. Her eyes are drooping and she looks drunk, which by the way she's speaking, she is.

You send her a blank gaze, indicating you don't want to speak to her, but she carries on talking.

"You look like you had a lo-oong day, amiright?" the girl says, her words sliding together. You nod curtly, and turn your face away. You're really not in the mood to deal with this. You would much rather enjoy the bus ride without some stupid drunk girl trying to connect with you.

"Mmkay fine, don't answur, I mean, answer me. I jus' wan'ed to -hic- see if you were ohhkay, you look real upset..." the girl says, leaning her lolling head against one of the poles connected to the seats. Sighing, you respond to her.

"Yeah, I've had a long day, but it's not really any of your business. Now can you just, like, fuck off?" you say, hoping she'll get the hint. She doesn't, unfortunately.

"Aww, c'mon, don't be like that," she says, hiccuping. "I jus' want tah be your friend, that's all. Look, if you evuur need somebody to talk to when you get -hic- lonely, jus' hit me up like this." The girl pulls out a piece of paper from her bag and scribbles down something that looks suspiciously like a Pesterchum handle. You groan internally, but begin to think that maybe she just wants to help.

"Thissis my stop, I gotta go, but remember wha-hic-t I said, you talk to me whever, I mean, whenever you want, m'kay? And, oh! My name's Roxy!" she slurs, then staggers off the bus.

You make a mental note to talk to this girl, Roxy, as soon as you can. A few minutes after your exchange, your own bus stop looms ahead, and you hop off, shivering into the sudden chill that hits you. Aside from a few leaves that whirl randomly around on the path, the street is deserted. It's getting late, and when you check your phone for the time, you realize it's nearly 1pm. How the hell did it get so late? You must've slept for too long, God knows how _that _happened.

You trace your steps you take nearly every day up the road to the hospital. Your phone buzzes in your pocket a few times, but you ignore it. You only have John on your mind, and you need to see him, need to make sure he's okay. Make sure he's still breathing.

You wait for the automatic doors at the front of the hospital to slide open, and walk in. The receptionist you know isn't here today, and it feels off without her. Trudging over to the front desk, you ask the new one where she went.

"Do you know where the other receptionist is?" you ask. This one stares blankly back at you, snapping her gum. Her mouth is hanging open, and she looks like a dead fish. Her obviously dyed brown hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and it makes you wince. Everything about her looks fake.

"Naw, I don't," she says flatly, her painted-on eyebrows arching slightly. "There's like, five of them." You wait for her to ask which one you might be asking after, but when she doesn't you mutter a stale 'whatever' and slouch away. There's no point asking further, because Fish Lady obviously isn't interested.

Sighing, you make your way to the elevator. When the metal doors open, you see John's doctor inside. He gives you a half-smile, but doesn't try to make conversation. For some reason, this strikes you as odd.

"Hey, um, do you know how John is? It's just that I know you're his doctor and everything, so, I was just..." you trail off, letting the question hang in the air.

"Oh, well, he's doing okay. His condition is stable, and he seems to be able to-" The doctor cuts short when he notices the tear slipping silently from underneath your sunglasses. He lets out a small 'oh' and puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, hey, don't cry, buddy. Everything is going to be fine, you'll see. I know John means a lot to you, and I'm sure that he appreciates the visits from you, even if he can't tell you that. Yet." he adds, trying to ignite the little spark of hope that seems to be missing from you. You glance up at him, shove your hands in your coat pockets and shrug.

"But... but what if it's _not_ okay, and John... J-John dies?" you whimper. The doctor shakes his head defiantly.

"That won't happen, Dave. I promise it won't happen." he says, and he looks sincere.

You can only hope that he's right about that.

When you reach John's room, you slip quietly through the door and into his room. The air is stale and hot, so you cross the room and open the window a tiny bit, letting some of the chilly winter air swish into the room. John had always loved the wind, and with that thought another memory comes flying back to you. It was summer, and you and John had taken a little ferry across to an island John used to visit with his dad when he was younger. It was overgrown and wild, and you had been bitten by like, a thousand mosquitoes, but John had loved it, and dragged you to the other side of the island to a sheer cliff that faced the open sea. The wind was absolutely brutal, whipping across your faces and chilling you to the bone, but you had watched as John sat there, breathing in the scent of the pine trees and the stinging salty smell of the ocean. It was beautiful, seeing John so at home with the air.

Swallowing the bitter taste of sadness, you take a seat next to John's bed. Nothing seems different, only now the bags under John's closed eyes have turned a worrying shade of purple. He looks pale and shrunken, as usual, but something seems off. You reach out a shaking hand to touch his hair, which is smooth and has retained it's bedraggled look the entire time. Suddenly, you see John's eyes flicker behind his lids, as if he's dreaming. You feel tears welling in your eyes, because it kills you to think that John might be dreaming of being awake.

You want this dream to come true. He needs to wake up.

Abruptly, John's doctor bursts into the room, followed shortly by John's dad. They look worried, and you notice that Mr Egbert has matching circles under his eyes, as if he hasn't slept in weeks.

"What's wrong?" you say, your voice shaking. The two men are silent, John's doctor desperately flipping through an array of papers arranged on a clipboard. Your eyes flicker between them, trying to figure out why they are acting as if something has gone terribly wrong, as if-

It hits you like a freight train.

"O-oh no, what happened to him? What's wrong, why won't you just _say _it?" you cry, and finally the doctor turns to you and Mr Egbert.

"John's heart rate has decreased to below the average threshold," the doctor says. He takes of his glasses and rubs his eyes before continuing. "The right resting heart rate for a boy his age is 60-80 BPM, but John's is now only 52. This means his condition is no longer stable."

John's dad has to sit down, and you turn away to face the wall. It's like a nightmare, but in a nightmare, you can wake up.

_Wake up, wake up, John._

You vaguely hear the doctor apologizing, but nobody moves. The air hangs heavy in the small room, and the only sound is John's ragged breathing and the steady _beep _of the heart rate monitor. You seem to have lost the ability to breathe. A light breeze swirls through the room as you press your face against the wall, not wanting to see either of the older men's faces.

"So... so does this mean that John might get worse?" you question from your position against the wall. You hear the doctor sigh, and Mr Egbert hold his breath.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. It may mean we might not be able to reach out to his mind, which is currently in an unconscious state. He might not die, per say, but there is now a greatly increased chance he may never wake up from this state again."

You feel like punching the wall.

"There isn't much we can do now but wait. We'll keep John for a few more days before possibly releasing him back into your care, Mr Egbert. A trained nurse can take care of him at your own home, or we can..." the doctor trails off. Everybody knows what he was going to say anyway.

Let him go.

"I understand, doctor, thank you. Could we maybe...?" Mr Egbert says. The doctor excuses himself from the room, and you're left alone with John's father.

You're the first to say anything. "Mr Egbert, what happens if John doesn't wake up? What will you do then?" you say, watching his face carefully for a reaction. He simply exhales sharply, and answers with, "I'll look after him as usual. He's my son, and whether he's able to function properly or not, he'll always be that."

You look at the floor. "But he needs to wake up. I... I don't know what I would do if he doesn't just _wake up..._" you whisper quietly.

Suddenly, the steady beeping that was filling the air has become slower and slower, and you rush over to it to read the numbers. Failing to understand them, but noticing that the little waves representing John's heart rate have become infrequent and spaced apart, you run out of the room.

"Hello? I need help!" you yell, and John's doctor comes racing around the corner.

"What? What is it?" he says, and you don't explain, just grab his arm and drag him into John's room. The doctor's face loses it's color, and he quickly calls for another nurse to come into the room. Together, they talk in hushed tones, using hospital words you don't understand. Then the doctor turns, and reveals what he has been saying. "John's heart rate is slowing down. Um..." he pauses, catching his breath. You steel yourself. "Right now, there's nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

You feel about fifty different types of terror and sadness, and you want to throw a brick at the sky, because how could this happen? What could John have possibly done wrong to deserve this? It should be the insolent fucking _dick_ that did this to him, Mike Hussie, lying close to death in the hospital bed in front of you. What could you possibly to do stop this from happening? Nothing, that's what, because what is there to do?

The air in your lungs feels like lead, and you feel your eyes get puffy. You can't take it anymore, and the hundreds of tears that have built behind your eyelids pour our. A tiny sob escapes your lungs, and you collapse in the chair next to John's bed. You don't care that the doctors and John's dad and the few nurses that gathered to see what was going on are all in the room.

You need to say it, and you need to say it now.

Your breath catches in your throat. "John, there is something that I need to tell you, and I need to tell you now, because you need to know." You pause to drag your hand over your eyes behind your shades, wiping the tears off your freckled face. "Do you remember that time you came to my house, like last year or something? And you were telling me about Con Air, and how much you love it, and Nic Cage is the best actor on Earth? Do you remember that? Because I do, John, I remember it because it was the day I fell in love with you."

You John's dad exhale, like he knew all along.

"I couldn't tell you before because you had that thing you would always say, 'I am _not_ a homosexual!' and I would laugh, but it freaking _killed_ me to think that you would never feel the same way, and I know you probably don't, but I love you, John, I love you so much." you say, and press your forehead against the sheets on John's bed. You're crying now, letting it all out, fucking sobbing your pathetic heart out. You're not sure if you're saying it right, if you're even able to find the right words. But you can only say one more thing.

"Please wake up, John. Please."

John doesn't move. You wrap your fingers around his, holding his hand to your face. John's dad puts his hand on your shoulder, slowly pulling you away from the bed. You push your glasses higher up on your nose, making sure nobody can see your eyes.

You're about to leave the room when you hear a small sound.

3

"D...Dave?" someone says, and you turn around slowly.

John is moving.

**Okay, there you go, chapter 5! I'm so sorry for not updating earlier, I was really busy with work as I'm nearing the end of my school year, so I had tests and stuff and arrrgghhh it was so stressful. But I've been working on this, and you can expect chapter 6 by Monday! Also, I'm not sure about the Roxy part, I just felt like including her in the plot because I love her! I have a feeling like this part of the story moved too fast, but whatever I'm not changing it now. So if you like it, review it please! I love you guys for liking this stupid fanfic, so thank yoouuuu! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Before I start, I just want to apologize for not uploading this sooner, it was nearly ready on Monday but then I got caught up with work and school and it was very stressful. But this is the last chapter, so I hope you enjoyed my fic! ^.^ You guys have been so nice with all the reviews and subscribes, I love you all sooooo much! *hugs all readers of my shitty fic* **

"D...Dave?"

A muffled squeak escapes your mouth, and you run over to the bed.

"Dave?" John says, slowly opening his eyes. He moves his hand, reaching up to take off your shades.

"Yeah, John, it's me," you say, and you laugh, a happy sound, because John is awake. The nightmare is over, and you've all woken up.

"Dave... I had a dream that went on for a really, really long time, and you were there and..." John hiccups and starts to cry, and you press your face against his, letting him cry all over you, but you don't care.

"Shh," you whisper. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay now. It's over, you're awake, okay? Don't cry." John sits up a tiny bit and wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face in your shoulder.

John's dad comes over, and John releases you to turn to him. "Dad," he chokes out, and Mr Egbert hugs his son before patting him on the head.

"I'm... I'm so happy you're okay." he says, and then turns to the doctor, who insists he needs to run some tests on John to make sure he's okay for sure, and ushers him and the other nurses out of the room. You can see through the tiny window in the door that they are waiting patiently outside.

You help John sit up on the pillows, and sit down on the bed next to him. He looks like he wants to say something, so you wait. He just woke up from a coma, for God's sake, so you give him time.

"Um, Dave, did you mean what you said before? Like, uhh..." he trails off, unsure of how to continue. You rub the back of your neck awkwardly.

"You heard all that, huh." you say bluntly. John nods.

"I heard a lot of stuff. Sometimes I couldn't hear anything at all, but other times I could hear you or my dad talking. But what I'm trying to say, I guess, is did you mean what you said when you said you... loved me?" John asks, focusing on the sheet, then at you. You huff out the air in your lungs.

"Yeah, I did mean what I said." you say, looking John in the face. He smiles a bit, a crooked smile that has your heart beating double time.

"Oh. Because, I was meaning to tell you the same thing. What you said, I mean, I, uh..." You don't let him finish, just press your lips against his. He puts his arms around your neck, pulling you down onto the bed. You're both smiling like crazy, because this is literally a dream come true. When you come up for air, John sees that you're crying as well, and wipes away the tears with the pads of his fingertips. You take them and kiss them, then kiss him again, and it's so perfect and you never want it to end.

But eventually, the doctors peek their heads back in the door, their faces flushed red because they obviously saw everything.

"Uh, John?" the doctor says. "I'm going to need to run those tests now. We need to make sure your brain is functioning properly, and that everything is generally okay. Is that alright?" he asks. John nods, but grabs your hand when you start away from the bed.

"Don't go," he whispers. You shake your head. You won't leave him now, not ever.

The surgeons run a few MRI's on John, then take blood and urine samples, which John hates. The doctors told you all that it would take John several months to regain his muscle strength, as it had been so long since he had been moving. John's upset, because it means things won't be back to normal as quickly as he'd hoped.

"I just want to go back to school and see my friends," he says, sniffling. You put your arm around him and rub his back.

"It'll be fine, dude," you say. "You'll just need to be in a wheelchair for a while, that's all." John smiles up at you.

"Okay," he says reluctantly. "So, I'll be a bit like Tav for a while, huh?" John says, laughing. You grin back at him, remembering your old friend Tavros, who's a paraplegic. You'll be sure to tell him that John needs to be wheeled around for a while. He'll be happy about that, you guess.

The doctor comes back with the results, explaining that John's brain is functioning normally, which is excellent.

"Although," he says. "John will have some difficultly remembering basic facts for a while until his brain is completely okay, so he might have a hard time in school. You'll find he might be struggling with basic addition, the alphabet, things like that, but don't be alarmed as it's perfectly normal for someone who has been in a coma for this long." Mr Egbert takes this well, ruffling John's hair and promising to help him in school. You also commit to helping John as much as you can in math and English.

After a few hours, you're allowed to leave the hospital. Mr Egbert pushes John in his new wheelchair with you walking beside him, holding his hand. John keeps glancing at your joined hands, like he can't believe it. You've just got this giant fucking smirk on your face, because this has literally been the best day of your life. John woke up from an 8 month coma, and you finally told John how you feel about him, _plus _he feels the same way and you freaking kissed him and you're holding hands with him and it's perfect.

It's all perfect and you can't believe it's real.

* * *

_**Summer**_

After a few months of readjustment, physiotherapy and emotional support from therapists and you, John is ready to go back to school. He's walking again, he can remember everything and he's back to how he was before. The only difference is that he doesn't want to talk about what happened to his mind when he was in the coma. You don't pry, because if he doesn't want to talk about it, that's fine with you. But sometimes it hurts to think that he might not trust you.

You still need to attend school, obviously, but you stay over at John's house as much as you can, the both of you wrapped in the same blanket. You hug John around the waist whenever he has bad dreams, which is a lot of the time. He tells you his dreams are filled with colors and noises, and in that space between being awake and asleep he'll murmur things you don't understand about his dreams. You end up kissing his neck and telling him to go back to sleep, that it'll be alright. You need to tell him this frequently.

John starts school that summer. It's a sudden change for him, and at first he's nervous because there's suddenly so many people and he isn't used to it after one year of being with only you and his dad.

The morning John is supposed to start school, you're standing on his doorstep at seven in the morning. You knock a few times, and a minute later you can hear footsteps towards the door. John opens it, and he looks like he was just woken up.

"Hey." you say, a smirk on your face. "Did I wake you up or somethin'?" you ask, regarding John's mussed hair and the sleep in his eyes. He half-grins at you, running a hand through his messy hair.

"No, no, I just, um, slept too late." he says. Then he looks down at himself, and your cheeks turn an alarming shade of red as you suddenly realize John is only wearing his boxers.

"Oh, uhh, I'll just go get dressed." John says quickly, and runs back up the stairs. You laugh to yourself and follow him up, dumping your bag by the door. His house is kind of dark, and most of the curtains are closed. You spot some dirty plates on the countertop in the kitchen, and realize that since Mr Egbert's car was gone, he must be at work.

"...and my dad had to go, so he left me to get dressed for school by myself, but I don't really mind." you hear John say as you go into his bedroom. It looks like it always does; his laptop screen is up, with Pesterchum and the browser with about a million tabs open, dirty clothes littering the floor and his bed piled high with books and a thick blanket.

"Sorry about the mess." he says, noticing you staring at the situation of his room.

"It's fine, dude," you say, laughing. John looks embarrassed and busies himself with finding a clean shirt in the piles of clothes in his drawer.

"So, are you ready to face the hellhole that is our school?" you ask. John mumbles an incoherent response, and you go over to him.

"Hey. It's going to be fine, okay? Just think about it like it's your job. You fuck this up, you can leave. If you need to go home, you can go home. Nobody's going to force you to be fine all the time, right?" you say. John sighs.

"I guess," he mutters, and you wrap your arms around his just-clothed waist from behind.

"That's the spirit." you laugh, and kiss John on the back of his head. He turns around, catching his mouth in your own and sliding his tongue into your mouth. You smile into his lips, and feel his hands skim down the sides of your body, pulling your shirt up slightly. You feel his fingers brush across the trail of hair leading down there, and you shudder. You suddenly realize that now is really not a good time; you have to be at school in half an hour.

"John," you gasp. "Not now, dude, we need to be at school soon..."

John rests his forehead against yours. "Okay," he whispers. He smiles at you, then turns around to grab some socks. You run a hand through your hair, trying to ignore the curl of heat in your abdomen.

John shoves his books into his bag, pushes his glasses back up on his nose and pulls his bag onto his back. He huffs out a breath of air and stands by the doorframe.

"Okay. I can do this." he says, leaning against the door.

"John, it'll be fine. Trust me." you say, and you mean it. You'll make sure John is fine, even if you have to fight to be in every class with him, but you don't care if you get in trouble for that.

John is what's important right now.

Since John lives close to the school, you walk there together. On the way, John stops a few times and shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

"What's the matter, man?" you ask him. John doesn't respond, he just stares at the ground and kicks a stone.

"I don't want to." he mutters, and you sigh, because what could possibly happen? The Hussie kid got suspended, and you know for a fact he won't be in school to harass you anymore.

"Why not? He's not going to be there, so what's up?" you ask, walking to the front of the shorter boy so you can look him in the face. John continues to stare at the floor, so you cup his chin in your hand and gently pull his face up. John sighs, and explains.

"I... I just don't want to be around everyone. I want it to just be me and you," he says, his eyes wide and shiny. You feel your heart melt inside your chest, and you draw John into a hug.

"It _is_ just me and you, John. Don't you get it?" you say, your voice muffled as you press your face into his shoulder.

"Yeah," John says, pulling back. "Yeah, it is." He's smiling now, and you lean forward to kiss him in the middle of the street.

When you get to school, you're clasping John's hand tightly, making sure everyone can see it. You don't care anymore, you don't care that people might make fun of you, because John is all that matters to you. John, with his little buck teeth and blue eyes and his hair that always seems to be messy. John, who's yours. You don't care if people stare. Let them.

Your first class together is biology, so you pull John a little closer to you as you walk to the science rooms. People are looking now, whispering to each other as they stare at your intertwined hands. You glare at them from behind your shades, even though you're pretty sure they can't see your eyes.

"Don't worry," you whisper to John as you walk. "Just stare straight ahead and act like you don't care."

"But," John argues. "I _do_ care! They're staring at us, Dave..." he mumbles, and you squeeze his hand and don't say anything. You need to make him feel safe, but right now he probably feels anything but that.

Suddenly, a shadow looms over you, and you both look up simultaneously to see Mike Hussie standing in front of you. _What the fuck,_ you think to yourself, and you feel John start to shake with fear beside you.

"Mike, what the fuck are you doing here?" you sneer at the larger boy. Mike smirks, and clenches his fists.

"You surprised, faggot? The suspended me because of you, asshole, but I played the good guy and got off early." he says, his face twisting with anger. "What're you gonna do about it, huh?" Mike straightens his back, and turns to John.

"Its damn good that I got you in that freakin' coma, you gay freak. You deserve it!" Mike laughs, throwing back his head like an ugly bird swallowing it's prey. You feel your whole body fill with rage, and in a blind flash of anger you curl your fist into a ball and sock Mike in the gut. He gasps and bends over, clutching his stomach.

"You little shit," he hisses, coughing. He stumbles towards you, his hand raised to lash out but you catch him first, hitting him straight in the nose. He groans, trips backwards and lands on his ass on the ground. Blood trickles out of his nose, and he wipes it with the back of his hand. The people around you watching laugh, and you see Mike's eyes flash with embarrassment. Serves the fucking asshole right.

"John didn't deserve it, you fucking douche. But you deserved that." you say, and take John's shaking hand in your own again and walk off, leaving a wheezing and shocked Mike behind. But before you can even reach the main building, John stops walking and grabs your shoulder.

"Hey, uh, that was... that was great. What you did, I mean." he says, taking your free hand in his own. You half-smile.

"Yeah, well, Mike's an ass and he needs to know that. I was showing him what it was like when he does it to other people." you say. John smiles, but it falters, and his voice catches in his throat.

"Dave, do you think I deserved it, because of... what I am?" he asks, and you feel angry tears spring to your eyes. You grab John's face and lean down slightly to look at him.

"John, don't you ever, ever fucking say that. You're perfect, you're so good and of _course_ you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve any of this, John." you say, and right there, in the middle of the school filled with people, you kiss John. He puts his arms around your neck and pulls you closer to him, and when you pull away, his breath is sweet on your mouth.

John didn't deserve it, any of it.

"I love you, John." you whisper. John pulls his head back, his eyes wide, then he smiles, a smile that lights up his whole, beautiful face.

"I love you too." he says, and kisses you again.


End file.
